


The Night Father Became Daddy

by orphan_account



Series: Untitled [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father/Daughter Incest, Incest, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mycroft Holmes is a dirty dirty man, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex, a different kind of Holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Mycroft Holmes' teenage daughter and are unable to sleep due to the fact that your brain won't stop thinking. Luckily for you, Father has the perfect solution to your restlessness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Father Became Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> This has neither been brit-picked or beta'd.

You had woken up in the middle of night and couldn't get back to sleep. Your mind was racing with so many random thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Hoping that a nice glass of warm milk could possibly calm your head; you decide to climb out of bed and quietly pad downstairs so not to disturb anyone in the house.

You're about to walk past Father's study and head into the kitchen, but happen to notice the beam of light emanating from the closed doorway. Curiosity getting the better of you, you gingerly turn the door knob and open the door just enough to peek your head inside the room. You see Father sitting at his desk, reading some sort of papers. The desk is littered with them.

You figure Father is far too busy to be bothered, so you try to step back into the hallway in order to close the door, but hearing him call you pulls you back inside, shutting the door behind you.

"Darling, why are you not in bed?" He glances down at the clock on his desk. "It's almost three a.m. and you have school in the morning."

You shuffle awkwardly, lightly tugging at your nightgown sleeve. "I'm sorry, Father. It's just that I can't sleep. I've tried to, but nothing seems to work. I was about to get some warm milk, but I saw the light on and...” you paused. “I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll go."

You turn to leave the room, but Father stops you.

"Sweetheart, you are not disturbing me at all." He removed his reading glasses and placed them gently on the desk. "Why don't you have a seat on the sofa and tell me what is troubling you?"

"Are you sure, Father?" You look over at the mounds of papers scattered neatly all over his desk. "You look rather busy."

Mycroft smiles genuinely at you. "You know I'll always make time for you, my dear. Well, barring a national emergency or crisis, of course." he joked.

" _Father_." you chided lightly. "I know your work is important. That's why I don't like to bother you with my silly little problems."

He rolls his chair back, stands up and steps around his desk. In a sweeping gesture with his hand, he invites you to sit on the sofa. "You could never bother me. Please come and sit with me. Hmm?"

You gingerly perch yourself on the edge of the sofa and watch as Father sits down next to you. Seeing that he's relaxed himself on the sofa, you decide to do the same and lean back onto it.

"Now my dear, why are you unable to sleep? Were you having a nightmare?"

You bite your lip nervously and look up into Father's eyes. The obvious concern in them calms you enough to finally take in a deep breath and answer him.

"Father, it's my brain. It won't stop thinking. Every moment of every day, it's constantly filled with so many thoughts, ideas, emotions, _feelings_... I can't seem to make them stop. When I'm not thinking about school, I'm thinking about home. I think about exams and the future and boys and what I want to do with my life and whether those things are even related to one another. If I don't do well on my exams, I won't get into a good university. If I don't get into a good university, I won't be able to pursue the career I want. And what kind of career do I even want to have? So many different interests and I can't even focus on _one_. Do I want to have a career before I marry someone? Do I even want to get married? And who would even want to marry me? Almost every single boy sees me as some sort of posh git with a stick up her arse because I'd rather focus on school than on being snogged. Is there something wrong with me, Father?"

Mycroft reaches out to take your hands into his. Their warmth has a comforting effect on you, allowing you relax even further. Father's blue eyes bore into yours. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you, my dear, sweet girl.” He tucks a section of your hair behind your ear. “Honestly, you remind quite a bit of your Uncle Sherlock when he was your age."

"Do I really, Father? How did he cope with it?"

Father suddenly became quiet and turned away from you solemnly.

"Father? Did I say something to upset you?"

A pained smile slowly stretches across Mycroft's face. "No, darling. Of course, not." He reaches up and runs his long fingers through your hair. "Well, let us not talk about that right now. How may I be of assistance in this matter?"

"Father, please help me stop the thoughts in my head. I just want them to stop. They're suffocating me."

Mycroft wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him. You start to cry softly into his chest, your tears lightly staining his shirt. He comforts you by rocking your body back and forth softly. You gaze up at him and his eyes meet yours.

Mycroft relaxes his grip around your body and uses his thumb to wipe away the tears from your eyes. "My darling girl..."

He bends down to place a brief kiss on your lips . They're warm and soft and unlike anything you've ever felt before. And in that tiny moment, your mind stops reeling and it is _brilliant_. You wonder if you kissed him again would it still have the same result.

You lean in closer to him and kiss his lips firmly. Father's hand tentatively touches your knee. You press your nubile body close to his, feeling his body heat radiating against yours, letting him know how much you want this.

"You're the only one who has been able to quell all of the noise in my head." you purred as you climbed into his lap. "Please, Father. _Help me_." You straddle his lap carefully, seating yourself over his burgeoning erection, which you can feel pressing against your knickers. You start to roll your hips, rubbing against his groin deliberately. You wrap your arms around his neck and trail your lips down it, hoping to incite him to make his move.

You coyly gaze up at him through your eyelashes, bating him.

“Darling, I...” Father started before you decide to take control and kiss him clumsily. You're not entirely sure what you're doing, but when you hear Father groan against your lips, you figure you've made a step in the right direction.

Suddenly, his hands are grabbing your bum, squeezing and caressing you through your nightgown. You grind against him, pressing yourself against his chest. His lips are hungrily devouring yours, drawing muffled moans from your throat.

Father releases your mouth and stares wildly into your eyes. “Is this what you really want?” he demanded.

“Yes, Father. Please make it stop.”

Father's large hands slide under your thighs and lift you up as he glides off of the sofa and lays you down onto the carpeted floor. He reaches under your nightgown and nimbly removes your white cotton knickers with quick ease. He then parts your knees with his own body, spread your thighs wide open for him to kneel between. Father's hands hurriedly undoes the button on his trousers and pulls down his zip with an obscenely loud zzz noise. Your eyes widen slightly as you watch him slip his hand into his pants and pull out his hard erection.

Your cheeks flush when he catches you staring at it. It didn't look like what you had seen in school textbooks or diagrams. It's thick and hard and, honestly, frightens you a little bit because of its size.

Father's eyes are brimming with desire as he looks down at you, pupils blown with lust. He wraps his fist around the base of his fat cock and trails it along your wet slit. Your breathing hitches as you feel it rub along your clit. You bite your lip and brace yourself on his arm as he carefully pushes inside of you. A muffled groan escapes your mouth as he thrusts into your tight virgin hole. The feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, but still painful as he stretches you. Seeing your discomfort, Father begins to circle your clit with his thumb, drawing your attention away from the pain.

As the pain subsides, your moans become passionate pleas for Father to fuck you harder, which Father happily obliges you. He pounds into you deeper and faster as his thumb rubs you even harder. You writhe underneath him as your orgasm builds inside of you. Father bends down to claim your lips, his tongue slipping inside and rolling around with yours.

Father slams his thick cock deeper into you, increasing the pace until he finally comes, spilling himself inside of you. His thumb continues to work your clit until your own orgasm rips through you.

“Oh, _Daddy_!” you cried out in ecstasy.

And the rest is blissful silence. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is me putting my twisted fantasies of being Mycroft Holmes' teenage daughter into fan fiction form. I've created this entirely fucked up alternate universe in my head and figured I would share it with others.


End file.
